


Double Blind Experiments

by captainmistyknight (ayna222), gilestel, MassiveSpaceWren



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (nothing graphic) - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers Family, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Identity Porn, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-OT3, Pre-Slash, Slow Burn, Villain Tony Stark, pre-polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 14:44:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16599911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayna222/pseuds/captainmistyknight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilestel/pseuds/gilestel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MassiveSpaceWren/pseuds/MassiveSpaceWren
Summary: “Iron Man has been classified as a Category Alpha level threat. He must be neutralized at all costs. What do you say, Cap, are you in?”Steve’s primary mission after seventy years of frozen isolation is to work alongside SHIELD’s Avengers to take down Iron Man, an infamous villain who’s been engaging in unchecked and unprompted property damage for the past three years. SHIELD and Stark Industries have lost countless dollars in technology. But as Steve gets closer to his team, and to Tony Stark, the reclusive billionaire whose tech Iron Man allegedly stole, things start to get more complicated. Can he figure out who to trust before innocent people get hurt?





	Double Blind Experiments

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gilestel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilestel/gifts), [MassiveSpaceWren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MassiveSpaceWren/gifts).



> Thanks to [Wren](massivespacewren.tumblr.com) and [gilestel](gilestel.tumblr.com) for being amazing artists and editors, and to [Ciel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ednae/pseuds/ednae) for being a great beta! The links to the art are [here](http://massivespacewren.tumblr.com/post/179604303113/my-art-for-the-cap-bb-2018-the-inspiration-was) and [here](http://gil-estel.tumblr.com/post/179995728656/my-illustration-for-captainmistyknight-s) respectively, in case the embedded links don't work. I hope you guys enjoy!

It seemed to Steve that he had woken up to a future far colder than the ice that had trapped him for seventy years. _Seventy years!_

He gave himself what he hoped was an unnoticeable pinch on the arm—he still wasn’t sure this whole time travel thing? Predicament? Whatever, wasn’t just a bad dream—but judging from the odd look the SHIELD physician gave him—he could never remember her name— he hadn’t been very subtle at all. His muscles continued to ache, from disuse, of all things, though from what he could tell nothing the medical team had tried had been able to touch the pain.

The woman mumbled to herself as she poked and prodded at the machines surrounding his bed, and injected some strange substance into what they called his “eye-vee”.

At least the medical advances while he was…asleep…were something to behold. And imagining the meanings and uses of the tubes and wires gave him something to do during the long hours he’d been left entirely alone over the course of the week he’d been awake.

“Trying methadone might work, maybe, but how would it interact with all the other meds he’s on?” The physician’s constant low mumble was clearly not meant for his ears, but thanks to his enhanced hearing it registered clear as a bell.

Steve clung desperately to the words he overheard, though he knew the meanings of approximately half. This was all the human interaction he had had for _seventy years._ It was mildly irritating to have had no one address him directly, but of course Bucky might come to visit soon, the way he always did, with a pot of chicken soup—a Sarah Rogers recipe—snuck in under a bulky jacket and a joke or two to brighten up the dreary place.

Then he remembered that he hadn’t been in a hospital since Dr. Erskine’s had conducted his pre-experiment baseline tests, and that Bucky and everyone else he had ever known and loved had been dead for seventy years.

All of a sudden, the cramped, isolated, room they were using as a makeshift quarantine felt entirely too large and entirely too loud.

“Excuse me miss?” he called out. The woman stopped mid-sentence to glare at her patient, as though his very presence were a waste of her time. She was probably worried he’d ask another stupid question about the new medical equipment. “Is there any chance you can turn down the beeping? It’s giving me a bit of a headache.”

The physician scoffed. “These measurements are critical to helping us figure out how to best treat you, Captain. I know it’s been made clear to you many times, but clearly it has not sunk in that you were cryogenically frozen on the brink of death for seventy years. The only way to turn down the ‘beeping’ is to turn these machines off entirely, which would rob us of data which we can use to get you back on your feet ASAP. Do you understand?” Steve nodded.

She turned to walk out of the room and continued mumbling, “Maybe more of the OxyContin? But we’re already past thrice the normal dosage and nothing is working. They should have just left him to sleep; it would’ve given us more time than a day to figure this whole mess out…” Her voice finally trailed off as she made it down the long, winding hallway that led back to the rest of the compound, likely off to report to her superiors about something or another.

 

Alone again. Of course.

 

He scanned the room one last, half-hearted time for any possible escape routes, but he'd learned the hard way that he couldn't leave without risking significant harm to himself if he didn't have a good grasp of whatever these doo-hickeys attached to his body did

He sighed, lay back, and debated whether boredom was worth the gamble he took every time he closed his eyes. This all would be easier if he could just go to sleep the way the irritating doctors wanted him to, but his rest had been fitful at best since he woke up.

The dreams changed every night: sometimes he screamed as his best friend slipped out of his grasp to his frigid death, other nights he lay awake, whimpering, as his mind conjured image after image of increasingly gruesome tortures, casting a different character—or should he say, a different Commando—as the lead in the gory play each time.

 

He decided it wasn’t worth it.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._ The machines continued their monotone wailing, to the benefit of no one since Steve still had no idea exactly what the machines did, not for lack of asking of course.

Still, in the silence of the empty quarantine room Steve was free to indulge in another of his hastily improvised games—finding a song with the exact bpm as his current heart rate, which is what he assumed the steadiest beeping was. There was apparently not a marker or pad of paper to be had in this Godforsaken place—again, he’d asked—so this was the next best thing, he supposed.

The song he managed to come up with was a favorite of his mother’s; she used to sing it to him each night before heading off to her shift at the hospital, even if the song itself was more suited to a bar than a child’s bedroom. The lyrics were far more poignant in the current context:

_And all the comrades that e’er I had_

_They’re sorry for my going away_

_And all the sweethearts that e’er I had_

_They’d wish me one more day to stay_

_But since it fell unto my lot_

_That I should rise and you should not_

_I gently rise and softly call_

_Goodnight and joy be to you all!_

His voice wavered slightly as he sang, which was to be expected given the circumstances. Maybe when all of this, whatever this was, was over he could find another quartet to join, if those even existed in the future. Maybe he could ask—

_“_ A _-hem,”_ an impatient voice interrupted from by the door. Lost in his thoughts as he was, Steve hadn’t noticed them approaching. The man was entirely unfamiliar. Par for the course. “If you’re not too busy serenading the walls, captain, I’d like a word with you.”

Steve gave the man a quick once over: tall, rigid posture, one eye covered with a dark black patch, a smile that looked more like a grimace; it was clear that this man wasn’t one to be disobeyed. Great, more angry people. Just what the doctor ordered. Still, he hastily pasted on his best “I’m Captain America, look at me being wholesome” smile.

“Pleased to meet you, sir; I’d be happy to have a word with you if you think anything I have to offer would be of any help to you.” He tried not to sound too eager at actually being needed for something other than his enhanced body, for once. The man strode in and pulled up a chair close to Steve’s bedside.

“As I’m sure you’ve guessed already, there aren’t a whole lot of people who can order me around in this place. Unfortunately, the doctors are some of the few people who can, when it comes to medical. I’m not cleared to pull all this shit out of you myself, so we’re just going to have to wait here ‘til one of these _motherfucking embarrassments_ decides to do their job and get you ready to work by tonight.” He leaned back in the chair, making it look for all the world like a throne.

“So you think I’ll be able to get out of here soon?” asked Steve, already planning a potential escape.

“You’ll be released into my custody, Captain, for further notice. Don’t get any ideas; you won’t like me when I’m angry.” Steve wasn’t one to startle easily, but he felt that even he would be mildly intimidated by this man in a state of anger. He resigned himself to further supervision, for now. “Allow me to introduce myself, since clearly no one else has bothered to do so. General Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD—”

“And what exactly does that mean, sir?” interrupted Steve.

Fury glared at him, completely unimpressed. “It means I’m the boss of you for the foreseeable future, and maybe longer. I’m told following time the normal way isn’t your strong suit.” It could have been a trick of the not-quite-bright enough fluorescent light, but it seemed to Steve that Fury’s face softened slightly. “Medical tells me you’ve been having a difficult time adjusting, Cap. I assure you, had we had the hours and men to spare this entire situation would have been handled _far_ more delicately. But the fact remains that what happened to you is very, very real. And it couldn’t have happened at a better time.”

“Sir?”

“The world needs you again, needs you to help take down a villain potentially more nefarious than HYDRA could ever hope to be.”

Steve made no move to hide his doubt. “With all due respect, how can anything be more evil than a Nazi death cult bent on destroying the universe with alien tech?”

Fury’s grin widened at the question, a little too wide for the face that held it. The effect was jarring, and teeth were clenched a little too hard for it to be genuine. He tossed Steve a couple files, the first bits of information willingly given to him since the crash. Steve nearly ripped the manila folder on the top in his eagerness. “Anthony Edward Stark—yes, he’s Howard’s son—,”

Steve blushed lightly and closed his mouth, question having been answered before he could even ask.

“—a supergenius who knows it, and a billionaire who’s just as obnoxious about it as you’d expect.” Fury continued. “As CEO of Stark Industries, for the longest time he ran his father’s company exactly the way his old man did. Made lots of weapons, sold them to the government for big bucks. But approximately three years ago, he had a change of heart.”

“What happened?”

“Stark was kidnapped during a routine weapons demonstration in Afghanistan by the Ten Rings, a terrorist organization. They wanted him to build them a bomb. Instead, he did this.” Fury reached over Steve’s shoulder to rifle through a few of the papers, stopping only when he managed to unearth a series of photographs, which appeared to have been taken from quite high up. “These are satellite images of the incident—we have eyes everywhere. As you can see, Stark created a weaponized suit of armor and took his attackers out. He was found wandering the desert a few days later and rescued. As soon as he got home, he shut down the weapons division of his company entirely, replacing it with a clean energy initiative. Obviously, not everyone liked this new plan, including his old business partner, who tried taking him out. It didn’t work, and Tony came out a changed man.”

“Changed for the better, I hope?” Steve was no stranger to how powerful a motivator guilt could be, and he hoped this Tony fellow would make good use of his influence from now on.

“For a while that’s what we thought, aside from a few hiccups last year when he was dying—“ Steve made a mental note to ask someone who wasn’t Fury as soon as possible about that story “—but a few months ago, this happened.” Fury pulled out the second file he’d handed cap and flipped it open. “This is Documented supervillain #64, publicly going by “Iron Man”. He appeared on the scene about six months ago. Notice anything?” Steve picked up on the main point nearly instantly.

“The technology this man is using matches Stark’s nearly identically.”

“Exactly. We need to learn how he got his hands on Stark tech, or the schematics for Stark tech, pronto.”

Steve nodded. “Of course. But sir, don’t you think it’s possible that Stark himself is piloting these suits?”

Fury shook his head. “We certainly considered it, but Stark was nothing but cooperative during the examination, and he’s got motive enough to want to take Iron Man down as much as we do.”

“What’s that?”

“Iron Man made his debut by blasting the Stark Industry computer mainframe to bits. Stark lost countless files’ worth of data. Since a lot of that was tech meant for us, this was obviously a huge setback for both SI and SHIELD.”

“So what makes him any different from any other maniac?”

“Interestingly, not much. He’s actually cleaner than most villains as far as death rate. He’s never killed a civilian, though he’s not been afraid to injure anyone nearly to the point of death. His property damage stats are low, barring the intentional attacks on SHIELD and SI facilities. The main problem is how effective he is at evading everything we throw at him. It’s almost like he knows our every move before we do.”

It takes Steve only a couple seconds to fully connect the dots. “That’s why you kept me a secret for so long. I’m the ace up your sleeve.”

“Bingo. Iron Man has been classified as a Category Alpha level threat. He must be neutralized _at all costs_. What do you say, are you in?”

Steve considered the information he’d been given, feeling strangely hesitant to discount Stark as a potential suspect, and confused by the surprisingly violent categorization for an otherwise basic villain. Still, the missions would likely be far more entertaining than sitting cooped up in a darker, more miserable hobbit hole.

“I’d be happy to help, sir.”

“Excellent, you made the right decision. And we know you don’t work alone, so we’ve prepped a team to replace your old one. A few of SHIELD’s top agents, Hawkeye and Black Widow will be joining you on your mission, along with civilian scientists Bruce Banner and Tony Stark. I’ll be leaving files for these agents and assets in the room you will be assigned in the main SHIELD compound. I expect you to read them before the team meeting tomorrow.”

“That’s fine; it certainly beats just sitting around this empty jail cell. Does this mean that I’ll be released later today?”

“Yes. In fact—,“ Fury’s reply was interrupted by the return of Steve’s cranky physician. “Dr. Fiske is here to cut you free.” Ah, so _that’s_ what her name was! Steve enthusiastically maneuvered his arms this way and that as the physician untangled the long wires that had been sticking out of him in all directions. He wiggled his fingers a bit, grateful for the return of his full range of motion. Fury gave the woman another grimace-grin. “Thank you doctor. Now Cap, if you’d follow me, I’ll take you up to your room.” He made a clean about-face, and moved smoothly out of the quarantine room.

Steve stumbled after Fury, surprised at how quickly his muscles got used to working again after decades of being quite literally frozen in place. He was easily able to match pace with Fury even as he picked up speed. Steve had been unconscious when they brought him to this room the first time; he woke up from his coma to the sight of the empty quarantine room and the sound of the incessant _beep, beep, beep_. The tunnel they were navigating seemed endlessly silent by comparison, and Steve revelled in the peace, no matter how short lived it might have been.

The hallway stretched on for what Steve estimated might be a mile or two, with changes in elevation and width every few feet. Steve found it necessary to crouch awkwardly during a good half of the trip. “How exactly did you know to prep a room like this for me?” he asked, as Fury ducked gracefully under yet another stone outcropping from a particularly low section of hall.

“We had no way of knowing where you were, or even who you were Cap, but it was important to take precautions for regulations, you know how it is.” Steve flashed back to the striking image of a young USO girl with red hair and ripped stockings, and understood Fury’s point completely.

“You wanted to make sure I wasn’t a danger to any SHIELD agents,” he inferred.

“That, or a danger to yourself. Wouldn’t want our knight in red, white, and blue armor running out into traffic before he can help anyone.” Steve refrained from mentioning to Fury that cars did in fact exist in the 30s, even if they didn’t bother with his lower class neighborhood all too often. He chuckled politely instead.

“I can understand that, sir. So, you created this entire structure for me?”

“Don’t think you’re so special Cap, we’ve actually had this set up here for a long time. It’s meant to hold something a lot bigger, greener, and angrier than you in case of emergency, but it worked as a place to keep you in a pinch.” Big, green, angry. Why did that sound like something _very_ specific? Fury smirked. “Don’t worry, you’ll run into our friend and problem soon enough. For now, let’s just get you adjusted to smartphones and fluorescent lighting.”

A set of stairs marked what Steve hoped was the end of the long trek to the main SHIELD headquarters, and he began taking them two at a time, half for convenience—he was sometimes still surprised by the sheer length of his enhanced limbs—, and half in his eagerness to get back to somewhere that might look a little like home, or at least, _a_ home. The stairwell opened up into a bright, large, square space with a sculpture of a black eagle standing in the center. The choice of insignia was certainly interesting; it mirrored the symbol of the United States while shrouding it in darkness: no mission statement could have more accurately presented SHIELD’s purpose.

The lobby—for that’s what it was—was empty at the moment, though Steve suspected that at any given day when he wasn’t being transported, the floor would be bustling with life. Fury led Steve to an elevator off to the right, pushing the button for the appropriate floor _himself._ The clear cube shot up into the sky. Times certainly had changed. _Bucky would have absolutely loved this,_ thought Steve, _it’s like something out of a sci-fi flick!_ Then he remembered that Bucky, and everyone he had ever loved for that matter, had been dead for over seventy years. Still, the world seemed to be much bigger and shinier than it had been in the forties, which would hopefully provide ample distraction before the new team was called for their first meeting tomorrow.

Sure enough the room lived up to the hype and then some. The spot Steve had been assigned to was about as homey as he’d expected, but far larger. The bed was large enough to fit in comfortably, and magazines and newspapers littered the table in the mini-kitchen. Not a window to be seen, though, yet again. _No fresh air yet, Rogers._

What appeared to be a glass square was propped against his pillow. Fury tapped on it, and the thing instantly began glowing a different color entirely. Steve jumped back in shock, which only increased as Fury began explaining how the tech worked. The thing was _tiny_ , and yet still managed to contain countless SHIELD files on everyone from Iron Man to Peggy Carter, who as it turned out had founded the agency alongside Howard. Though he knew that things may have changed between the time Peggy had been involved and the present, he was certainly more inclined to trust an institution built on good morals, of which Peggy had plenty.

Steve snapped back to attention as Fury finished up his explanation. “—and that’s how you set up a StarkPad. Remember, the files on here are more classified than anything you’ve ever been given access to, so keep the damn thing locked in your room when you’re not looking at it. This space is yours to live in. Feel free to decorate however you want; I’m sure a grown ass adult can learn how to use Amazon.” A loud beeping interrupted cut Fury’s ramble short. “Well, that seems to be the end of that. Sit tight and do your homework, Cap. I’ve got a Coulson to find.” With that, he swept out of the room and off to God-knows-where.

Steve did as he was told, for once, and pulled up the files like he’d been shown. They were truly endless, full of meticulous detail, and formatted elegantly. Frankly, if one of these files had been human Steve might have proposed marriage. He began skimming quickly through information about his new teammates and allies, feeling a bit guilty all the while at the thought of snooping through other people’s personal information. Still, he’d been given permission from the Director, and it’s not like he could ask questions about triggers during a crisis situation.

Natasha’s file seemed like as good a place to start as any. Apparently, the woman was a master spy, with more aliases than there were years Cap had been frozen in the ice, though all of them seemed to have been redacted with thick, black marker. It was no surprise to Steve when her file ended up consisting of more censor than sentence.

What he did manage to find out was that she’d spent the past year or so shadowing Howard’s son and writing up a risk analysis for SHIELD, which the tycoon had passed with flying colors, leading to his current consultant status on the Avengers Initiative. Stark himself had really changed his tune after what the media was calling the Iron Man Incident. Steve viewed a few of the virtual clippings that had been saved to Stark’s file.

The damages had been extensive, and after losing so much work so soon after his business partner had betrayed him, Stark completely dropped out of the limelight. Where he had once been a gregarious man, who seemed to have taken on his father’s mantle with as much fanfare as money could buy, Stark had become a recluse, a bird in a gilded cage, sequestering himself from the society he once practically controlled.

SHIELD wasn’t too concerned with this change in behavior, but Steve found himself growing even more suspicious. A reclusive billionaire seemed to him like the perfect civilian identity for a supervillain like Iron Man. But then, why would Stark blow up his own work? Maybe Steve was missing something? He tabled the issue for the moment, and flicked over to Bruce’s file.

He flicked away as soon as he’d opened it. The file started off with a picture of a massive, roaring green beast. That was a joke, right? But wait, hadn’t Fury said something about “big, green, and angry” earlier today? This must be the right file. He flicked back, and began reading about Banner’s misguided attempts at replicating Dr. Erskine’s experiments. It seemed the very serum that had preserved his life for seventy years of cryogenic isolation had completely destroyed that of what was once a mild mannered, intelligent man.

_That quarantine room must have been for Dr. Banner,_ he thought. Steve felt his mind wander as he flicked through Agent Barton’s file half-heartedly. What would working with these new people tomorrow be like? What would happen if none of them gelled as a team? Would there be time to train together before the next mission? He glanced at the clock as a yawn pulled him out of his musings. He closed out of the files, and began turning down his new bed. A whole week of doing nothing had left him pretty exhausted. The rest could wait until morning.

 

* * *

 

 

Though Steve still wasn’t used to being awake after seventy years of slumber, his body remembered how to get up at the crack of dawn. It was impossible to imagine what the sunrise might have looked like in this day and age, but SHIELD had been kind enough to provide him with what appeared to be a clock. _Four hours to kill before the meeting,_ he thought, blinking more blearily than usual at the oddly glowing “5:00”.

He sat up and reached for the sketchbook usually kept somewhere over to his left, sighing as he found nothing but empty space instead. _Right, future._ A week ago, he was starting on a sketch of Dernier. It seemed fitting to have him be the last of a Howling Commandos set he now knew he’d never finish. No chance of getting a jog in either, Fury had neglected to show him where the gym was in this massive maze-prison hybrid and if he tried his luck with an outdoor loop he’d probably make it back at five the next day. He could read the other files, or maybe some magazines?

A loud bang and a flash of pain in his leg pulled him out of his reverie. _Shit._ He’d been jostling his legs again. He thought he had the tics under control, but it figured the army meds had worn off while he was under. He always found it funny how the drug meant to keep him alert actually calmed his nerves. It would certainly make things harder to go without.

He forcibly stilled his body’s fidgety movements and started to get ready for the meeting. He’d grab some magazines and files and read them in the conference room; the change of scenery (and hopefully, extra breathing room) would do him some good. Yeah, that was a plan, at least. He suited up and got to work.

Steve lengthened the walk up to the conference room as much as he could. It was meant to be short—he suspected that was so he could be ready to fight as soon as possible—but he took the opportunity the overnight shift provided to tour the facility in relative silence. He managed to find a training area, which was good, but it was filled with strange machines with not a weight to be seen. He’d need to ask someone to show him how the new equipment worked, though he doubted anyone would bother to take the time to really show him. Oh well, there was nothing he could do about that until after the meeting anyway.

He pushed open the conference room doors—they felt like heavy ones for someone without super strength—and had to take a moment to absorb all the _new._ This room was unlike any he’d ever seen before. It was surrounded by windows on all sides; even the wall he’d just come through was suddenly transparent. Was it possible to have a window that only worked one way? The light streaming in from the hallways and slowly lightening sky provided just enough for reading, but still shrouded much of the room in shadow. He felt simultaneously exposed and secluded, a troubling yet exhilarating feeling that woke something up deep in his bones. He missed being on alert.

Steve took a seat to the left of the room that promised an excellent view of the upcoming sunrise, and flipped open the manila folder on the top of his stack. Natasha Romanoff. He’d gotten about halfway down the list of aliases when a cough came from a darker corner of the room. Steve’s head snapped up, body already half out of his seat.

“Relax, soldier, just wanted to introduce myself.” A slim, young woman with vibrant red hair practically glided towards the table. “Figured it would be OK, since you’re reading my file and all. I assume you’re Captain Rogers.” Steve relaxed a bit, and reached out a hand.

“Agent Romanoff, a pleasure. And please, call me Steve.” Natasha shook his hand firmly while Steve panicked. Was that too forward? Not forward enough? New teammates were harder to get to know without Bucky by his side to ease the way.

“In that case, when we’re not on the field Natasha is fine, _Steve_ ,” she retorted with a bit of a smirk. Sassy. Steve thought he might like this one.

“What brings you here so early in the morning?” he asked. Thank God for obvious conversation starters.

“Figured I’d see what order the rest of the team came in,” she replied, taking a seat a couple chairs away. Steve smiled slightly.

“Sense of timeliness tells you a lot about a person, doesn’t it.” Natasha’s smirk grew even wider.

“Sure, sure, but people are an open book to me regardless, as that file will tell you. I bet Clint twenty dollars that he’d be the last one in.” Clint. That must have been the archer.

“Who’s he got his money on?”

“Stark. He forgets I used to work for him, sometimes. Tony’s always five minutes early; it’s more intimidating than being fashionably late.” Steve filed that info away, perking up at the mention of Howard’s son.

“Was he a good boss?” Natasha tilted her hand from side to side.

“He was fine—a bit high strung cause of the whole ‘renegade, armor-stealing villain destroying his company’ thing but he was good for a laugh or two. Didn’t make any inappropriate comments with me in the room _once,_ which was a pleasant surprise given his habits before the kidnapping. Overall, he’s your average genius billionaire philanthropist, if can call someone like that average. Interesting that you asked, though.” Steve blushed slightly.

“How so?”

“Nothing, nothing at all. Go read your mildly inaccurate dossiers. If you want, we can get lunch after the meeting and compare notes. I have a feeling you’ll have a better read on your teammates than those slips of paper ever will.”

“I thought you wrote these?” Steve asked, frowning slightly.

“Rule #1, Rogers. Never give anyone everything you know. Now go, read.” With that, Natasha pulled out what Steve now recognized to be a phone, and started tapping away. He sighed, and flipped open the next file on the stack. A few minutes into reading about Clint’s background, Natasha interrupted.

“You’re nervous, aren’t you.”

“A little, I guess? What makes you say that?”

“You’re awfully fidgety over there; it’s making my anxiety anxious.” Steve felt his body temperature go up seven degrees.

“That’s not nerves; that’s my normal.” He paused for a moment, hesitant about sharing such a personal detail, but eventually figured it would get Natasha to loosen up around him a bit more. Losing some of her respect would be worth being able to get a better read on the Black Widow. “I...was sick a lot as a kid. After the scarlet fever, I started having trouble keeping still, concentrating. The doctors said it was brain damage. The army gave us all a pill to keep people awake that helped, but I must have metabolized it all.” He paused. “It won’t affect my ability to work on the team, I know it, but...it’s there.” Natasha frowned slightly, and Steve steeled himself for the upcoming rejection. _You’re used to it, it’s fine, you can still be teammates even if she doesn't want to be friends anymore._

“Did no one give you a neuropsych?” she asked. Huh, that was new.

“A what?”

“A neuropsychiatric evaluation. A bit after your time, I suppose. It’s a psychological test that determines your cognitive functioning abilities. It’s usually standard issue for new agents; I would have thought they’d do it after keeping you hostage for a week.”

“No, I think I would have remembered one of those.”

“You definitely would have; it’s a day long and full of weird block stacking and picture matching. No wonder they missed the ADHD then.”

“The what?”

“ADHD. Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. It’s usually diagnosed in kids nowadays. Matches what you just described.”

“There’s a word for it?”

“Psychology’s come a long way since you were a broken little boy, Steve. I assume the doctors also used to give you cigarettes for the asthma?”

“Yes, what’s wrong with that? They’re supposed to help.” Natasha wrinkled her nose.

“They definitely do not, Cap. Be glad the serum fixed you up before the lung cancer set in.” Steve needed a second to process that.

“How much were we wrong about?”

“A whole lot, as it turns out, but I think you’ll like most of what you read about medical advancements. The polio vaccine is pretty nice.” Steve smiled.

“Good to hear; I’ll try to find an encyclopedia or two on the line.”

“Online?”

“That.”

“That’ll be a good place to start, yeah. I can ask about getting you Aderall—that’ll be the closest thing to the amphetamines they used to give you guys in the army; what a bad decision that was. In the meantime, here.” She tossed him a weird looking cube.

“What’s this?”

“A fidget cube. Used to keep them on hand for one of my old bosses, and I saved this one as a souvenir. He made it himself, said it really works. Why don’t you give it a shot? I like the clicker side best, personally.” Steve pressed on the little noisemakers and fiddled around with some of the other features before settling on the swiveling joystick.

 

“I think I like this one best.” Natasha nodded, like this confirmed a lot of information she’d been gathering as they chatted. Based off what little he knew about her, it probably did. He slipped the cube into his pocket. “Thanks, Natasha.”

“No problem, Steve. Now finish that work so you get brownie points. Don’t say it came from me, but Coulson’s got a soft spot for you, and I bet he’d go easy on you if you show you can do the work. Clint’s set a low bar for you, anyway.” With that, she went back to tapping away on her phone.

“Thanks. Sorry for pulling you away from your work for so long.” Natasha somehow made an innocent smile look devious.

“What work? I was playing Candy Crush. Now, go. Read.” Steve laughed aloud at that. They spent the remaining half hour in companionable silence before the rest of the team started trickling in. Steve was exchanging pleasantries with Bruce, who as it turned out seemed to know quite a bit about SHIELD’s lack of bedside manner, when a whirlwind burst into the room. Natasha was right, Mr. Stark was five minutes early, true to form. He was shorter than Steve had expected. He turned towards them and smiled, white and blinding.

 

_Whoa. Pretty. Wait, what?_

 

“Dr. Banner! It’s an honor; your work on gamma radiation is _unparalleled._ I have so many questions; how did you decide to go for the nonlinear design for your test apparatus? What kind of coating did you use to block out ambience? What—” he paused here, taking in the mildly trampled expression on Bruce’s face with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, it’s just nice to meet someone who speaks English.” Bruce visibly shook off the shock before reaching out to take Stark’s hand.

“And you’re Tony Stark, the pleasure is all mine. That new element you found has _so many_ fascinating properties. Though I’ve got to say, you seem…” Stark picked up where he trailed off.

“Different from the papers and gossip mags? Less like a cocky playboy than expected?” He shrugged. “I made a couple of lifestyle changes after the kidnapping, and the thieving, and the nearly dying. Felt like the universe was giving me a sign or something. Plus Pepper bribed me with the chance to skip boring corporate meetings if I went to therapy instead, and wouldn’t you know it, paying someone to let me ramble at them for hours on end is kinda really nice, especially when they can’t tell you to shut up. So yeah, I’m flipping over a new leaf, takin’ the new me out for a test drive. It’s been nice not being on the cover of, well, _everything_ for a bit. I can breathe without someone shoving a breathalyzer in my face hoping to report on a DUI before it happens.” Steve had no idea how Tony managed to say all of that in one breath, but he noted absently that the glint in his eyes as he spoke was oddly distracting.

“I can see how wanting to hide for a while can be appealing” replied Bruce with a small smile.

“You bet. Maybe we can stick our heads in the same patch of sand sometime.” Tony said. Bruce’s face fell.

“I would—yes, but—the other guy?” he said, looking down at his feet. Tony poked him in the shoulder, hard, making Bruce hold himself back up.

“Did I mention that I was a big fan of your papers? Yeah? Well I’m a _huge_ fan of how you turn into an enormous green rage monster. We’ve got plenty of room for the other guy, both in and out of the lab.” Bruce had a little half-smile on his face at that.

“See you there, then.”

“Yep! I’ll call you if we don’t end up getting special cellphones out of this top secret boyband.” He turned towards the conference table, stopped, and did an abrupt about face.

“Oh! Didn’t see you there, Captain Rogers. The name’s Tony Stark—not sure what SHIELD told you about me, but don’t believe a word. I’m a paragon of virtue and it’s a privilege to know me.” Steve might’ve been annoyed at the bravado had he not just witnessed the man put high-strung Bruce Banner completely at peace in a matter of minutes. There was kindness behind the snark; Steve just needed to pull it out.

“It’s a pleasure, Tony. Forgive the informality, but Mr. Stark was—”

“—my father, yeah, yeah I gotcha, and frankly I’ve been cool with convention-dropping, though I’ve got to admit if you’re looking for stories about what the guy was like after the war I’m sorry to say that I can’t help you.” Steve put on his best “I’m Captain America, babies and small kittens love me and so should you” smile.

“Actually, I was hoping I could grill you about your inventions sometime. I’ve missed about seventy Stark Expos.” Tony smirked softened slightly. Good, cracks in the armor…

“Not nearly that many I’m afraid; we cancelled those for a while and just started up again. I take it you used to go?”

“Me and Bucky never missed a single one. I loved sci-fi, but Bucky? He was _completely_ obsessed. Bored nearly a dozen of the dames he’d take with him half to tears, only to push them aside in favor of a shiny new engine anyway. But he always had time to explain to me how this doodad or the other worked and how it was different from the doohickeys we saw the year before. H-he’s the one who should’ve been here instead of me.” Steve trailed off, voice quaking slightly under the weight of his admission. “I wish I could’ve given him the chance to see this.” The weight of Tony’s hand on his shoulder shocked him out of his reverie.

“Come on now, Cap. Trust me when I say I know being the one left alive can be hard, but we all know you did your best on that mission.” He smiled slightly at him, a small and gentle thing Steve was fairly certain wasn’t brought out very often,  Now, let’s change the subject before things get even more sappy.”

“Actually, while we’re on the topic of the past, I do have a couple questions for you.”

“Not sure how the futurist would be of much help, but I’ll do my best, which is pretty damn good if I do say so myself.”

“Your dossier said you knew Peggy?” Tony lit up at that.

“Oh, you want stories about Aunt Peggy? I _definitely_ have stories about Aunt Peggy for you. She was...well, the only good thing about being a kid.”

“Is she…?”

“She’s fine; her memory’s going a little bit but she’s still every inch the crazy competent lady we know and love, Cap. Maybe when this is all over we could go see her sometime?” The tentative hope in Tony’s eyes made the decision for him.

“I’d love that.” The way Tony lit up at his acceptance erased any doubt from his mind: there was no way this kind soul was the vicious Iron Man. He stuck out a hand.

“It’s good to meet you Tony.”

“Yeah, funny enough, good to meet you too.” Were handshakes usually meant to last this long? And that funny flipping thing his stomach was doing wasn’t something he’d felt since the first time he saw— _oh._ Oh no. Fortunately, sound of the conference room doors banging open drove the thoughts clean out of his mind. Director Fury walked in, accompanied by a stern brunette woman and an unassuming gentleman Steve assumed was more bite than bark.

“This is Agent Maria Hill and Agent Phil Coulson.” began Fury, pointing to the woman and the man in turn. Ah, the famous Coulson. “We’re here to report that this little meet-and-greet isn’t gonna last much longer. You’ve got a new mission.” Steve frowned.

“But we haven’t gotten a chance to train together? How are we supposed to fight when we’ve just met?” he asked. Fury smirked.

“A good Captain knows how to pick his teammates up and bring them back down again, wherever, whenever. This is either going to push you into gelling with the team, or breaking completely. It’s up to you to make this work.” It was a lot of pressure, but nothing Steve hadn’t handled before. Still, the clear confirmation that he was here to be a tool stung.

“What about Clint?” Natasha piped up from somewhere near the back. Fury actually frowned a bit before continuing.

“Agent Barton has already been compromised; that’s why we’re here. The hostile—he’s calling himself ‘Loki’—is capable of total mind control. He used Hawkeye to take something from us, something important.”

He tossed a few dossiers on the table, and Steve obligingly passed them out to his new teammates. When he flipped his open though, his heart just about stopped.

“The Tesseract is an alien artifact recovered in the Arctic Ocean several years ago; SHIELD has been exploring its potential in the clean energy sector since its retrieval. Loki has taken it, planning to use it for who knows what purpose. Your mission is one of retrieval: get in there, find the cube, use _this_ —” he pointed to a strange looking box thing, “—recording device designed by Stark to collect data in action, and _these_ —” he indicated some teeny tiny hearing aid looking things “—comms to check in with each other.” Get that damn blue _problem_ back here so Stark and Banner can figure out what Loki’s using Dr. Selvig to figure out. If you find Barton and manage to get him back, that’s fine, but he’s not a priority. Any questions?”

Tony raised his hand. “Yeah, just one. If this was a clean energy project, why the _fuck_ didn’t you have me on it? I’m the renewable energy guy; this project was completely in my wheelhouse! I could have had my security on this from the start, and this whole theft thing _wouldn’t have happened._ ”

“Why do you think we have you and Banner on it now, Stark? Now grab your comms and go; we need you in Stark labs _yesterday_.” An near-imperceptible frown crossed Tony’s face, but he nodded once and stood.

“All right, come on Brucie-bear. Let’s get this shit over with so we can get to talking about _actual_ science,” he pronounced before stalking quickly out of the conference room. Bruce, still looking mildly shell-shocked, rose smoothly from his seat and followed. Fury rubbed the bridge of his nose, then looked up at the two remaining agents in the room.

“And _what_ are you waiting for? Go! The briefing info’s already loaded into the quinjet.” Natasha got up smoothly, dusting invisible debris off her suit as she went, grabbed a comm, and turned to Steve.

“Come on, I’ll show you where we hid the hangar.” Steve grabbed the last comm and the box-like device and figured it was in his best interest to just follow along for the ride. Besides, how hard could a grab-and-go be, anyway?

 

* * *

 

As it turns out, a grab-and-go can be very, very annoying when you add a brainwashed sharpshooter, an _asshole_ of a _literal Norse demigod whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck,_ and his brother who thunders both physically and metaphorically when he’s angry (and who was fortunately on their side? It seemed? Steve wasn’t quite sure to be honest). They’re also in _fucking Germany_ of all places, why does everything have to happen in Germany? Why couldn’t it happen closer to home?

Tony and Bruce had been helpful over comms, at least, both in terms of providing strategy and keeping up morale. Steve hadn’t laughed this much since, well, World War II. “They should have left this thing in the ocean,” he said to Natasha, who nodded her head violently. They were currently just standing in the middle of a random field while the godly argument went down. Tony laughed through his comm.

“You said it! This whole thing has been nothing but a pain in my ass. I’m going to mute my comm now, so I can get some actual work done. Have fun with the Hardy boys!” Steve kinda missed his voice already.

“Brother! Cease this foolishness! Return home, return to your _family_!” boomed the brother, whose name Steve had forgotten five seconds after he heard it.

“You and the fool of an All-Father are no family of mine, Thor!” exclaimed Loki, in equal volume. _So that’s what his name was,_ Steve thought idly as he watched the drama unfold, rolling his eyes. He did not sign up to be a battlefield family counselor (the fact that he signed up for none of this at all was of little consequence, he supposed).

“All right, let’s wrap up this little performance, yeah? Shakespeare in the park is fun and all, but it’s way past time for a curtain call!” That heavily filtered voice could only be one person.

“Iron man! What are you doing here?” yelled Natasha. Her tone of voice hadn’t changed much but Steve could somehow tell that she was close to losing it. Understandable, considering they’d lost sight of Clint halfway through the battle, and God knows what potentially very dangerous Loki had him doing.

“Same as all you shitheads; I’m here for the cube,” quipped the most wanted man in the country, casually. He landed almost delicately in the middle of the fight, which was impressive considering the three hundred pound armor. “Wow, it’s even cornier up close!” He posed in a manner Steve could best describe as “snooty”. “Doth mother know you weareth her drapes?” Dear God, not another one. Steve didn’t need this shit.

“Iron Man!” he called. “You have fifteen seconds to vacate the scene before we will remove you by force. This is _not_ your fight, and you will _not_ ruin this mission.”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Captain Handsome,” said Iron Man in his eerie robotic tone, walking over as Steve dropped into a defensive stance. “It’s like you were summoned from my worst nightmares, special ordered Prime on Amazon. I mean, what are the _odds_ that they find _you_ of all people in the middle of nowhere! Totally the cherry on an awesome Sunday, lemme tell you.” Steve gritted his teeth.

“Leave. Now. Or I won’t hesitate to shoot you down.”

“That’s cute, sweetie, love the—” he waved his hands in the air “—moxie, really screams ‘Apple Pie Flavored Righteous Asshole.’” Well then. Steve was nothing if not someone who made good on his promises. He took threw his shield; Iron Man dodged every rebound with grace.

“Whoa! You’re a testy one; I like it! SHIELD’s finally got itself an honest little minion. If you don’t mind—” he paused for a nearly awkward length of time, before continuing on as if nothing had occured, “—I’m gonna take that as my cue to skedaddle. I’ve seen enough, and I’m needed elsewhere.” With that, he flew off, quick as he had come.

Steve blinked the debris from the takeoff out of his eyes, just barely getting his bearings when Natasha swore. As he looked around, he restrained himself from doing the same. The two of them had been so enthralled with Iron Man that they’d completely missed the two demigods flying away.

And that’s when he noticed that Tony’s comm was registering nothing but static. “Do you hear Tony? Or Bruce?” he asked Natasha, who shook her head. Steve couldn’t hold back the swears this time, much to Natasha’s amusement. “We gotta get back to Stark labs, then. Do you know the way?”

“Of course I do; just get in the quinjet and I’ll do the rest.” Steve started running over to the jet, Natasha keeping pace with him easily.

“How are you holding up after all of that?” he asked her. Natasha smirked.

“I’m getting Clint back or dying while trying. It’ll spare me all the Middle Earth monologuing.” Steve laughed, long and hard. He definitely liked this one. “Don’t worry about me,” she continued, “worry about how you’re going to get through a battle in one piece when you’re too busy making googly eyes at Tony to punch things.” Shit.

“I-is that going to be a problem?” he asked. He figured he wasn’t going to be arrested, based off how casually Natasha was talking about the situation, but there was still the chance that they’d bench him permanently if Natasha told.

“What, thinking boys are cute? Nah, everyone who isn’t a total asshole is cool with being queer nowadays. Thinking about Tony’s sweet little ass when you’re supposed to be having my six? Definitely a problem. Now shut up and let me drive this thing.” Steve grinned. For all of SHIELD’s flaws, he liked the future.

 

* * *

 

New York made the warzone they had just left seem like a playground tussle. There was a hole? In the sky? And what looked like honest-to-goodness, Flash Gordon style aliens had completely flooded the streets. This was _bonkers_.

“Where should I put her down, Cap?” asked Natasha from the cockpit. Steve took a more analytical look around.

“Try over there, between Stark Tower and the giant flying whale thing.” He must have made a weird face at that, ‘cause Nat laughed loudly.

“Yeah, that’s definitely a sentence I never thought I’d hear either.” She took the quinjet down smoothly, dismounting immediately. Steve grabbed his shield and hopped out, running over to where Nat was speaking animatedly with Bruce of all people.

“—but are you sure it’s going to be safe? What if you take out the Tower instead? What was Fury thinking?”, he heard her exclaim.

“He’s thinking that this is our only option. So am I.” replied Bruce, resignedly.

“What’s going on?”, asked Steve as he got closer.

“Fury wants to unleash the Hulk.” Steve nodded.

“Widow, go find Hawkeye. If anyone can get him back to normal it’s you.” She immediately ran towards the Tower. “Dr. Banner, I understand that you were on call for research purposes, but if your work’s done now would be a good time to get angry.” Bruce heaved a sigh, took out his comm, and gave it to Steve.

“For safe-keeping,” he explained. “And just for the record, I’m always angry.” He had barely finished his sentence when he began growing to near monstrous proportions, and soon enough the Hulk let out a massive roar before jumping on a nearby alien whale-ship. In the background, Steve saw Nat hugging a man in a jarringly purple outfit. Good, Clint was back

 

The fight went by quickly after that.

Steve was actually kind of enjoying himself, which was a bit of a shock, he wasn’t gonna lie. He and the Hulk made for a pretty good team, since they were both pretty good at smashing things (though on different scales, for sure), and now that Hawkeye was back to as close to normal as he could be, given the circumstances, they had a sniper who was shockingly useful considering the amount of time he spent cracking wise in the comms. It helped that Thor reappeared halfway through, proclaimed them “worthy guardians of Midgard,” leaped a solid meter into the air, and slammed a pair of whale-ships into the ground. Steve just nodded kinda dazedly and tossed him Bruce’s comm. So yeah, the fighting was good, the banter was _great_ , right up until he got the call from Fury.

“Avengers, Iron Man is headed your way holding a nuclear weapon. We have no idea what his motive is, and we don’t have time to figure it out. Your number one priority is to neutralize that threat.”

Steve looked up at the giant gaping hole in the sky, and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“Right, so, just to make things clear, we’re gonna _ignore_ the freaky magic man and his freaky magic army,” said Clint, deadpan.

“You’d prefer to see the entire East Coast turned into a crater?”

“Oh no, definitely not, that would be much worse than having the entire coast vapor-AAH!” He took a moment to stab an arrow through an alien’s eye-socket.

“We’ll take care of it as best as we can, sir, though I’ve got to admit, Clint’s right. We need to do something about that portal,” Steve replied.

“We’ve got SHIELD’s top scientists working on it.” Steve frowned.

“And Tony?”

“Any signals from the Tower have been completely jammed. We have no idea if and when any of his intel will be useful.” Fury sounds annoyed, so Steve just gives the affirmative and switches to the private Avengers link before swearing profusely.

“Whoa, Cap! Didn’t know you had it in ya.” quips Clint from whatever building he’s on now. Steve blushes. Team leader. New crew. Gotta be professional. Right.

“We have bigger things to worry about now. It’s _imperative_ that we stop Iron Man before he can let that nuke loose on New York.” Just as he relays that order, they hear the tell-tale sound of repulsor tech coming from somewhere above them. Speak of the devil. “Iron man on your three, Hawkeye! Can you hit him?”

“It’s no good, Cap, the wind currents that portal’s generating are just too strong. I have no idea where my arrow would land.”

Steve stares at the portal, pensive. “We’ve got to shut it down.”

“Well, I’ve got good news for you all, then.” came Nat’s voice over the comms. “Bruce and I managed to take down Loki, and Selvig’s awake enough to help us out. Apparently the staff has a fail-safe. I’m ready to close the portal on your mark.”

Steve was about to order the shut-down when he noticed Iron Man caught up in the gusts around the portal’s mouth. “Hold it...hold it…” the red suit suddenly shot right into the hole in the sky. “NOW!”

The portal began to close, and Steve heard sighs of relief from his entire team. The worst was over. Now it was just a matter of cleaning up the rest of the mess. Thor landed next to him from where he’d been off fighting aliens. “Shall we claim our victory, Captain?”

Steve grinned. “Let’s do this!” There were very few things more satisfying than slamming his shield into the ground and watching Thor use his hammer to launch it at the Leviathans at Mach 3. It would have been nice to know how Tony was doing, but that was a Steve figured SHIELD had a handle on that situation. It was time for the team to get a handle on this one.

In all the commotion, no one noticed a red speck clearing the closing mouth of the portal just before it closed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The team was sitting around a conference room table back at SHIELD when Steve remembered.

“Wait! What about Tony? Is he all right? We didn’t hear from him after comms went down”

“Don’t worry Cap, I’m OK,” called a voice from the hallway. Tony appeared in the doorway in what was probably the most ostentatious red and gold suit Steve had ever seen, but he looked no worse for wear as far as he could tell. “Just got knocked around a bit, then hid in my workshop. Thank past-me for having the wherewithal to put it in the basement.” He winked, and the room temperature immediately went up ten degrees.

Steve frowned. “OK, but there should have been SHIELD agents with you like they said there would be? What happened to them?”

Tony shrugged. “Who knows? Knocked out cold in the mayhem, I guess.”

Steve stared at Tony, who hadn’t looked him in the eye once while speaking this whole time. Was he hiding something? No, what would he have to hide? Tony stared right back, a warm smile on his face.

“Right, so, did you need us for anything else or did you just want an audience for your little rom-com?” interrupted Clint from where he was lounging at the head of the table, feet resting on the mahogany as he checked over his bow for damage.

Tony laughed. “Just one thing, actually. I’m going to need to rebuild my tower, which makes this the perfect time to add extra rooms. Brucie already said he’d come and stay, if only for the _awesome_ lab I’m making for him, but is anyone else in the market for a new living situation?”

Clint and Nat shot each other a quick glance, which somehow contained an entire conversation.

“You beat Fury to the punch, Stark; he was going to ask you to set up rooms for the Avengers at your place in a few days,” remarked Natasha, eyebrow raised. “So I just have one question for you.”

“And what question would that be?”

Natasha smirked. “Will there be a shooting range?”

“Sweetie, you can’t even imagine the treats I have cooking up in my kitchen. How do you feel about moving targets that fight back?” Tony had visibly perked up at the confirmation that people were actually considering living with him, which made Steve wonder just how lonely he’d been before this whole Loki debacle.

“Well, I don’t know about Nat, but I’m definitely in,” quipped Clint. “Anything would beat this place. Can you make me new hearing aids too?” He tossed some chunks of charred plastic onto the table. “These are beyond dead.”

“Sure thing, birdie.” Clint glared at Tony, who was laughing too hard to notice.

“I’m in too,” added Natasha. “I wouldn’t mind destroying your robots.”

“Alright! I know you guys have that meeting with Phil now, so you’d better get going before he comes here and tries murdering us with his eyeballs—except for Cap, of course.” Steve flushed red at the reminder that Coulson was—how did Clint put it?—a _total fanboy._

As the two agents got up to leave, Steve saw Clint moving his hands rapidly in Natasha’s direction. He knew enough to recognize sign language, but couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. He mentally added “learn ASL” to the short list of potential things he could do in the new century.

“‘Kay, what about you two?” Tony turned to face Steve and Thor, who had been uncharacteristically silent throughout this whole debrief.

“I will need to go back home to attend to my brother from time to time; I am not sure how, but it is clear that my family has somehow pushed him onto this hateful path. But it would be most pleasing to live and train with such worthy shield-brothers as yourselves while I am on Midgard.”

“Sweet! Let me know the next time you’re Earthside; we can chat about what kinds of godly things you need. Maybe over shawarma? I’ve never had it, but I saw a shop on my way over here, and it looks pretty good.” Steve bristled at that. He hadn’t been on many dates, but this seemed pretty date-y as far as he could tell.

“I am not sure that I trust Midgardian cooking yet, but the beverages here have been most exquisite. Perhaps you could show me where to find some of the “coffee” my beloved Jane showed me the last time I was here?” Tony’s bright grin somehow widened at that.

“Thor, you’re a man after my own heart. Stop by the tower and I’ll make you the best damn coffee your taste buds have ever witnessed.” OK, now _that_ was definitely date-y. What was Tony doing?

“It is settled, then!” boomed Thor, hefting his hammer as he got up. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must head back to Asgard. There is much preparation to be done for Loki’s...extended stay, and I must speak to your director about the Tessaract first. Farewell, friends!” With that, he shattered one of the conference room windows and flew off, leaving Steve and Tony alone in the room.

“Well, that’s one way to make an exit!” Tony laughed as he surveyed the shattered shatterproof glass. “I really ought to make these guys better windows. Anyway, what say you, oh Captain my Captain? You wanna live with a bunch of crazy people in a skyscraper?”

Steve only had one answer to that. “When can I move in?”

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, the answer to that question was “Right now, right now, let’s move, let’s go!” Steve found himself nearly dragged halfway across the building to his cubicle room, which he had no idea Tony knew how to find.

“This is it, right?” Tony asked as they walked right up to the door. “I’ve never seen the rooms here.” He held out his hand, into which Steve dutifully placed his keys, and opened the door. “Right, let’s see what luxuries you’ll be leaving behi—.” He trailed off as he got a good glimpse of the room Steve hadn’t seen since yesterday morning. “Well….it’s, uh, big?”

Steve grinned. “A big, empty shoebox. Let me just grab my stuff and I’ll be good to go.” He made for the kitchen to start gathering up some of the magazines.

“Don’t bother,” said Tony from somewhere behind him, where he was fiddling with the StarkPad Steve had been given before. “I can find you all those magazines right on here.” He brandished the pad.

“Careful with that, there’s classified information on there!” Steve was pretty sure Tony had a high clearance level, but he didn’t want to take any chances, especially not when he didn’t know who was watching.

“Don’t worry, my clearance is better than yours, Cap. I know everything in the files they gave you already. Now, get packing so we can get out of this place. It’s giving me claustrophobia.”  

Steve packed his meager belongings and took the time to change before slinging his SHIELD duffle bag over one shoulder. “I’m ready to go.”

Tony unceremoniously chucked the StarkPad onto the bed, straightened up his ridiculous suit, and headed towards the door.

“Aren’t we going to take the tech too?” It looked so expensive, after all...

Tony chuckled. “No way, that stuff’s at least six months old; I’ll get you the entire, top of the line StarkTech series when we’re back in the Tower.” With that he made his way out, Steve hurrying to catch up both physically and mentally. Having extras was going to take some getting used to for sure.

They walked side by side down the long hallways, Tony’s hand brushing against Steve’s every so often. A sudden image of the two of them holding hands flashed through Steve’s mind, and he quickly shoved his rebellious hand into his pocket to keep it in check, jostling a bit when he came into contact with something unexpectedly plasticy in his pockets. He pulled out the offending item and grinned a little when he saw what it was. Natasha was truly a blessing

Tony squinted down at the little gizmo. “Is that one of my fidget cubes?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, Natasha gave me one earlier today, said I might find it useful.”

“Is it working for you?”

“Yeah, I have another one in my suit that I was playing with during the meeting; it really did help. I’m not sure when Nat decided to hide this one in my room.” He probably should have been a little more concerned that someone was able to sneak into his locked room without him noticing, but trusting Natasha was growing easier and easier by the minute.

“Well then, seems like we might have more in common than I thought, Steve-o. Which side’s your favorite?”

“Joystick, though the worry stone’s pretty nice too.”

“A man with discerning tastes! I’m a fan of the switch, myself, but I can see the appeal of a good joystick now and again, especially when anxiety comes knocking on top of the usual mess.”

Steve stopped, suddenly. “You’re the boss!”

Tony blinked. “Uhh...sure?”

“No, no, you’re Natasha’s boss who made these things,” clarified Steve, shocked that he hadn’t made the connection sooner.

“Oh, yeah, that’s me! She didn’t say anything bad, did she? Like I said, don’t believe anyone else; I’m a paragon of virtue,” Tony pronounced with a wink.

“Don’t worry Tony, it was all good things,” laughed Steve. “Paragon of virtue may be pushing it, but most people seem to think you’re a nice guy.”

“Yeah?” Tony asked, almost shy. “Well, you’re certainly not what I was expecting. In a good way! Yeah, definitely a good way…” He trailed off for a long moment before shaking himself out of the reverie. “Right! Let’s go decorate your room! I’m thinking a classic, but modern theme.” He continued rambling on about moldings.

Steve shook his head and went along for the ride, laughing and trading jabs about color patterns all the way home.

 

* * *

 

The choice to live with Tony was simultaneously the best and worst decision he had made. The man was surprisingly relaxed on his home territory, joking around with the team when he wasn't hard at work doing…something in the basement. It was amazing; he not only understood but also appreciated and was able to use Asgardian humor. He remembered their favorite pizza toppings. He couldn’t beat Clint at air hockey but he was always willing to try again regardless. And he sat awake with Steve in the middle of the night, jabbering about his projects some days and just sitting quietly while Steve sat shaking at their kitchen table, mug of hot cocoa and blanket on hand. He was nothing if not incredibly, genuinely kind.

But then he’d do something like ask his invisible robot butler to do calculus, or give Steve an entire art studio when he found out about his time in art school (“I gave everyone else something!” He’d attempted to justify, but Steve still protested and never quite stopped reeling). It was “little” things like that, at first, that reminded Steve that he didn’t belong here among shiny surfaces, and that he wouldn’t be waking up the next morning to the sound of Bucky and Dum Dum’s raucous laughter.

Still, it was better here than it would’ve been at SHIELD in his tiny cubicle room. Here he had a life outside their missions. He had Natasha to drag him forcibly out of his suit and out if his head by _nearly_ beating him at hand to hand combat, then teaching him how to make a good borscht (the key is in the bone broth apparently). He had Clint trying to teach him archery—which he was “a solid B+” at, in Clint’s words—and juggling, which he was somehow great at. No one questioned it.

Thor regaled him with stories in exchange for “portraits of his exploits,” Bruce was great to do yoga with, and even Tony’s friends Pepper and Rhodey were fun to chat with about art and the ways the armed forces had changed when they were visiting.

And Tony was...Tony. He could definitely read Steve’s mind, somehow. When Steve was homesick they went “closet-diving” through bitter memories to unearth Howard’s WWII collection, where Steve managed to find his old sketchbook and finish his portrait of Dernier. When he caught Steve singing the baritone part of an Irving Berlin arrangement he had been working on before the crash, he hooked him up with a quartet in the area. Heck, when he sat still for too long he took him to a children’s hospital to play with babies. The man was truly magical, and Steve found his thoughts circling back to him almost without his permission. He didn’t see him often—Tony had asked the team for privacy when he was in the ‘shop, which they had granted—but each time he did he grew more and more obsessed.

Which is why, several weeks after what people were calling the Battle of New York, Steve was going stir crazy. They hadn’t gone on a mission since Thor had left to do something on Asgard, and to make matters worse, Tony hadn’t been seen since he told the team he’d be going on a business trip to his Malibu house about a week ago.

“Has anything new come up yet, JARVIS?”

“I’m there’s been no change since my last update two minutes ago, captain,” replied JARVIS, fairly snarkily. Maybe Steve should stop bothering him; he must have been worried about Tony.

“Alright, let me know if you find anything?”

“Of course, captain.” His tone seemed softer then.

Steve made for the living room and flopped himself onto the big couch. He hadn’t slept more than ten hours this past week, but his body wouldn’t let him fade into unconsciousness until he knew everyone he cared about was safe. Didn’t mean he couldn’t try though.

Natasha found him curled up as best as he could on a corner of the couch, staring at the wall. She looked like she wanted to say something, but decided at the last minute to just sit down next to him. Clint came by a few minutes later and squeezed in on his other side. They sat like that for who knows how long when JARVIS broke the silence.

“Captain? I have picked up on a news report related to Sir and his welfare? Shall I display it on the living room TV for you?” Steve perked up considerably at the news.

“Yes, please.” The television flickered into life, and the voice of a news anchor filtered into the room.

“...received word that Mr. Stark has survived a brutal Iron Man attack on his Malibu home earlier this week, and was found in a small compound hours north of the former location of his residence. Mr. Stark has been secured, and police are now looking for any survivors...” He’d been _missing?_ How did they not know about this? Why did JARVIS not tell them the moment he vanished? Why hadn’t his friends called?   
  
“...Happy Hogan remains unconscious in the hospital, and it has been confirmed that no survivors have been left at the scene. Authorities report signs of repulsor burns characteristic of an Iron Man attack…” OK, that explained some things but raised several more questions in return.

Natasha frowned, just as confused as Steve. “How is he alive?”

“I don’t know, Nat, but I don’t like it,” replied Clint. “I can’t believe SHIELD has let this whole Iron Man situation go on as long as it has. This is like the _third time_ he’s come back from the dead already! The Avengers should be working on taking him out.”

“Actually, that’s one of the projects Fury has me working on,” said Steve. “It’s harder than you’d expect. He just appears and disappears, and makes sure to leave no traces of his presence other than repulsor burns.”

Clint nodded, still looking put out, and turned back to the TV, changing the channel to something a little more lighthearted. “We’ll bring it up at the next meeting then.”

The three agents worked their way through a marathon of terrible sitcoms, trying to explain all the cultural references to Steve, when they heard a cough from behind the couch.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” asked Tony. They all turned to face him. Steve held back a gasp at the sight of his bruised face.

“Tony, have you gotten checked out yet? We should have Bruce look you over; he’s down in his lab, but I’m sure we can pull him away from his projects long enough to get you taken care of.”

“I’m fine, Steve, got cleared back in California. It’s all superficial stuff, though the kidnappers weren’t so lucky. I’ve got a heck of a story to tell you guys, though. Anyone up for a quick trip out to get a bite?”

Natasha and Clint had another conversation-in-a-glance before shaking their heads. “Nah, Tony, you two go have fun. Nat and I have things to be doing here now that don’t gotta babysit a moping Cap,” he announced with a smirk. Nat punched his shoulder, giving him a look that Clint faced head-on, before sighing and dragging him out of the room.

Tony stared after them, a small smile on his face. “Well, guess that means it’s just us two then, since Thor’s Thor-ing somewhere off world and Brucie’s busy with his clinical trials. Got any requests?”

“Nowhere too fancy, please. The last time we went for small plates I had to order in pizza as soon as we got back.” Steve barely held back the giddy grin that was threatening to surface; he was still the only person Tony had hung out with one-on-one with any regularity. That meant something.

“Ugh, you should have told me! We could have gotten some together, I was _starving!_ Where’d you order from? Let’s go there now.”

Steve rattled off the name and off they went.

 

* * *

 

“...and then the broke it anyway! You should’ve seen the look on that cronie’s face when I kicked his ass for breaking a Dora the Explorer watch,” Tony laughed. “And then _Iron Man_ of all people showed up to save the day. Thank goodness for that, or I would’ve been Extremised for sure!” He took another bite of pizza. “This is good, by the way,” he said with his mouth full, “definitely remind me to order from here more often. No wait, JARVIS?” he asked, speaking directly to his wristwatch.

“Yes, sir?”

“Delete the other pizza contact and add this place’s number instead. Default order: large margarita.”

“Yes, sir.”

Steve’s frown deepened. “So JARVIS is attached to your watch, huh?”

Tony swallowed. “Yeah, I added a new channel while I was on the plane. Didn’t want to be cut off from him again.”

Steve felt his panic lessen a bit when he learned JARVIS hadn’t been lying about losing Tony. “OK, are you sure you’re alright? Cause you’re laughing, but your face is telling another story.”

Tony sighed, and put down the slice. “I’m fine, Steve, or well, as fine as you can be I guess. I’m just glad Iron Man got there in time.”

“That’s another thing! How can you be so happy about Iron Man coming to get you? He _just_ tried to bomb New York; who knows how he survived!”

“Well, it’s a good thing he did, or I’d be dead.”

“You’re alive, and that’s great, but he also killed seventeen people Tony! Sure, many were terrorists, but they were still people! And a few were just Extremis patients!”

Tony winced. “You really think he’s horrible enough to be responsible for that? That it’s not possible he was framed?”

“Yes! You don’t? He’s been attacking your company for ages!”

“See, that’s the thing, all of the data he’s taken out? I’ve been analyzing it after the fact, and all of it is tied to Obie’s dirty dealing from before we caught him. He’s actually been helping people by hurting the company.”

“He should be doing it legally, if he really wants to help. I get that you were out of it, Tony, but he still tried to _nuke New York,_ and he still just killed seventeen people.” exclaimed Steve, thankful for the hustle and bustle of the small pizza shop that muffled his noise.

Tony paused. “You’ve got me there, Cap,” he said, and left it at that. They finished the meal in silence, and Steve couldn’t help but feel that he had lost.

 

On the drive back, Tony finally reached out an olive branch. “What’s the real problem, Cap?”

Steve sighed. “Why didn’t you break your ID card, Tony?” Tony had designed the Avengers ID cards with a homing beacon that would activate once the card was snapped, indicating that a team member was in trouble.

Happy put up the partition.

“It all happened so quickly; there wouldn’t have been a point,” replied Tony slowly, as though he was trying to choose his words as carefully as he could. Steve bristled.

“That’s bullshit and you know it; you were missing for a week and the quinjet could have gotten to your location in an hour. We could have picked you up from Tennessee. We could have gotten you out of the Killian situation. Hell, we could have helped Rhodey with the president thing if you didn’t want us helping you! There’s nothing worse than sitting on the sidelines, Tony, _nothing_. Especially when you know you can help.”

Tony blinked, then looked down at his lap, face suddenly red. He mumbled something that even Steve’s super-hearing couldn’t quite parse out.

“What?” asked Steve.

“I said, I didn’t want to be a burden. I’m one of the weakest members of the team anyway, and the situation was tense. I didn’t want one of you guys getting hurt trying to protect me.”

“Tony, that’s the point of a team. Have you never worked on a team?”

“No one was really clamoring to work with the kid-genius-turned-asshole-billionaire, Steve. Hell, _I_ wouldn’t want to work with me. Why would someone as good as you want to?”

“Tony, no, you matter to us, you must know you do,” replied Steve, before any more self deprecating thoughts could take hold. “You’re the resident techie, the only person we can really trust with our gear. You’re the only person I have ever let work on my shield in this century; I only trust Stark work,” he joked, but if anything Tony’s face fell even more.

“Sure,” he scoffed, “I can make some fancy toys, but you guys are ones really out there saving people while I’m holed away in my shiny tower.”

Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Tony, who was the one who disrupted the communication frequency those robots were using, who saved Bruce because of their quick thinking?”

“Me, but—”

“Who managed to dismantle seven bombs in four minutes, remotely no less?”

“Me, but Steve—”

“And who has saved my life time and again with their insightful commentary about the battlefield?”

Tony sighed. “Me.”

“That’s right. You. As much as I say I hate chatter on the comms, we all appreciate your jokes _and_ analysis. You’re useful, Tony, and we would have come to help in a heartbeat if you’d asked.”

The car lapsed into silence again, one that felt far more comfortable than the last. After a while, Tony broke it again.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Steve reached across the car to clap a hand on Tony’s shoulder, pushing aside the warm feelings bubbling up in his gut.

“Anytime, Tony. Anytime.

 

* * *

 

Steve started taking more missions from SHIELD after the latest Iron Man incident. The Avengers hadn’t been called to battle since Thor left, Clint and Nat were happy to take the help, and he figured Tony had no right to an opinion given the stunt he’d just pulled. That’s why waking up to the sound of a knock on his door at 4AM came as no surprise.

“Gwuh, what?”

“Get up, Steve, Batroc’s holding hostages. Clint’s out on a solo mission in Massachusetts of all places, so I need you.”

Steve groaned. “Ugh, not the Leaper.”

“I hope you’ve been practicing your flips,” quipped Nat with a smirk, leaving the room gracefully just as Steve got tangled in his sheets trying to get out of bed.

The flight to meet up with S.T.R.I.K.E was long, but that was a good thing. It gave Steve time to prepare for the upcoming battle. A group of SHIELD operatives was being held hostage on a ship by Georges Batroc, and S.T.R.I.K.E, along with Steve and Nat as backup, had been assigned to do a quick grab-and-go. Apprehending the Leaper would be a bonus but not a priority. Easy, right?

Wrong. Everything went to shit the moment they landed. Natasha disappeared the moment after. They found out their intel had been wrong the hard way, because Batroc wasn’t on the ship. The agents were being held by a masked man with an arm that appeared to be made entirely of metal. He didn’t talk much—which to be honest was a relief, villain monologues were the worst—but he _caught Steve’s shield_ , which said everything that needed to be said.

“Rumlow,” he gasped through the comms when he had a minute to breathe, “grab the agents! Widow and I will continue to distract the main hostile. I assume your team can handle any grunts along the way?”

“Who do you take us for, Cap, rookies? We got this, just go be the cannon fodder.” Funny, Clint would’ve said the exact same thing, but Steve still got a shiver down his spine whenever the S.T.R.I.K.E captain spoke.

“Alright, let’s do this, Widow.” Silence. “Widow! Nat? Natasha?” Continued silence. Natasha was nowhere to be found. Great.

“Guess it’s Steve Rogers against the world,” he joked, striving not to feel the loss when no one was around to appreciate his terrible reference. “Time to get my shield back."

He ran back the way he had just come, hoping to intercept and get the drop on the attacker, only to get slammed by his own SHIELD as the man emerged from the shadows in which he’d been hiding.

“Good one; people don’t usually guess that move,” gritted out Steve.

“Shut up,” replied the attacker, as he caught Steve’s punch in his fist.

The fight began in earnest. Punch after punch, fake after fake, no soldier in the evenly matched pair managed to get the upper hand. Steve finally took a few steps back to regroup, taking a defensive stance as the other man circled around him.

“You’re good, I’ll give you that. But why do this? Why take those hostages if you weren’t going to do anything with them? You’ve been on me this whole time.”

“Bait,” replied the man. His voice seemed oddly familiar.

“To take me out?”

The man shrugged, suddenly and shockingly human. “It’s my mission.”

Mission. So someone had hired him. “Widow!” Steve called over the comms as he dodged the next attack.

“Yes?” The call was staticky, but workable, thank God.

“Have you heard of any assassins with metal arms?” There was a long pause, filled only by Steve’s grunts as the fight got more and more difficult.

“Steve, please tell me this is a hypothetical question and that you’re not staring the Winter Soldier in the face.”

“I’m not staring the Winter Soldier in the face.”

“Good, now why—”

“I’m fighting him.” Steve heard the sound of Russian swears on the other end of the line.

“Run, Steve! You’re not going to be able to win this one,” she called. There were frantic footsteps on the other end of the line.

“We’re actually pretty evenly matched, he said, and flipped out of the way of what would have been a particularly painful kick to the sternum. Something twinged in his memory. “It’s funny, he fights just like—.” He was interrupted by the sound of blaring alarms and the flash of red emergency lights. The Winter Soldier disengaged, staring silently at Steve for a moment longer before dropping the shield and running off.

“The ship’s going down, Cap! Something is really wrong; we gotta go,” said Nat. Steve nodded.

“Meet you at the landing pad,” he said. He scooped up his shield and sprinted to where the quinjet had dropped them off at the start of the mission, only to see it taking off without him. Nat pulled up behind him and let out another litany of Russian curses. Rumlow leaned out the side of the jet, laughing.

“Have fun dying, Cap! These hostages are HYDRA’s now,” he called down to them, before sliding back into the jet. Now it was Steve’s turn to swear.

“Do you want to, or should I?” asked Nat.

Steve sighed, and snapped his Avengers ID card in half.

 

Fortunately, Tony and Bruce were able to fly over an Avengers quinjet before things got really bad. Tony was grinning when he picked them up.

“Heck yeah, science bros to the rescue!” he exclaimed, offering Nat a high five. She left him hanging for a moment before slapping it. Steve could have sworn he saw something glint between their two hands, but passed it off as a trick of the light.

“You got here just in time. I assume you tapped into the SHIELD comms?”

“Is the sky blue? I heard everything, including Rumlow’s last little announcement. Which brings me to my next point; Rumlow’s taken SHIELD.”

“What?” cried Steve and Nat, in unison.

“Yeah, it’s bad, he’s got Pierce and Fury trapped in the conference room with a bunch of dignitaries. We’re gonna pick up Clint on the way,” called Bruce from where he was piloting.

“So what’s the plan?” asked Nat.

“We get in. You, Clint, and me go up to the conference room to stop Rumlow. Tony and Bruce, you guys head down to the labs and see if you can get into the main computer system. We gotta know how deep the HYDRA infiltration has gotten.”

“Aye, aye, Cap!” laughed Tony with a jaunty salute. “But yeah, sounds like a good plan overall. I gotta make sure those nazis don’t get access to my tech.”

With the plan solidified, the team settled in for the flight to DC, filling in Clint once he got on board. As familiar landmarks started appearing in the windows, the Avengers prepared for what they expected to be a difficult battle, if not a long one.

“OK, I’m gonna put ‘er down a few miles from headquarters. Bruce and I are fine here by the jet; we can use any computer to hack SHIELD. You guys ok with running for a bit?” asked Tony.

“Can you put us by that grove over there?” said Nat in response, pointing to a small cluster of trees. Tony and Bruce landed there obligingly.

“This gives us plenty of cover,” remarked Bruce, “but how is it going to help you?”

“Like this,” said Nat, push lightly on a nearby tree trunk. Two motorcycles suddenly materialized, seemingly out of thin air.

“How?”

“Cloaking,” responded Natasha simply. She hopped on one bike, Clint following close behind. “Cap, you know how to ride one of these things, right?”

Steve hopped on the other bike, and revved the engine. Oh, he’d _missed_ this. “Last one to SHIELD gets cleanup duty.” With that, he took off, fast as the motor could take him, Nat and Clint hot on his tail. The ride was a short one, but that didn’t make it any less fun. Steve really had missed the feeling of wind whipping through his hair, the roar and hum of the bike as he tore up the streets. He was almost sad when they finally got to headquarters. Almost.

“Right, Clint and I will take care of the grunts. Cap, you run right for the conference room, fast as you can. We’ll meet you there when it’s clear.” Steve nodded, jogging towards the front gate alongside his teammates. “Ready? Break!” The agents went their separate ways, each with a mission in mind.

 

* * *

 

The door to the conference room burst open, half the tied up dignitaries jolting in fear at the sound from where they sat, lined up against the back wall. Steve could see Piece and Fury both, bundled up along with the rest of the World Security Council. Rumlow leered at him from where he was standing near the back of the room.

“Ah, Captain! So glad you could make it. We wouldn’t want to spoil the show for our esteemed guests.”

“Let them go, Rumlow. Your fight’s with me, not them.”

Rumlow laughed. “Now why would I do that? You’re right, the fight’s with me, but why would I deprive them of the show of a lifetime? They’re getting front row seats to watch America die.” He turned to a shadowed corner of the room. “ _Soldat!”_ The Winter Soldier stepped forward, metal arm glinting in the sunlight streaming in from the windows. “Take him out.”

The Soldier nodded once, then made his way over to Steve, movements purposeful and efficient. He had let him live on the boat earlier that day. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. Steve jumped out of the way of a clean right hook, responding with a kick of his own. The two matched each other blow for blow, dancing around each other like they’d trained together. It was oddly electrifying, strangely familiar.

Steve finally got a good grip of the man’s face, but he managed to pull clear out of his grasp, though he lost his mask in the process. The sight that faced Steve shocked him more than the escape.

“Bucky?”

The Soldier paused, tilting his head, before asking, “Who the hell is Bucky?”

 

The fight continued.

Steve was seeing the battle from a new light, analyzing and reanalyzing movements that suddenly had a good reason for seeming familiar. There was Bucky’s usual feint left, there was his favorite kick. Heck, even the rifle in the corner of the room matched Bucky’s preferences perfectly. Steve was more sure of this than he was his own name: this was his best friend. He had to try to reach him.

“Bucky, it’s me, it’s Steve. You don’t need to do this; I’m your friend!”

“You’re my mission,” growled Bucky before he lunged again.

Steve danced out of the way, “No, I’m your partner. The man you fought alongside for years, the fella you spent your days with before we went off to war. The person you trusted with everything before it all went to shit.”

“You’re my _mission,_ ” said Bucky again, more forcefully this time.

“Sure, sure, I’m your mission, but there’s more to it than that, you know there is!” he exclaimed, wincing at Bucky’s pained cry. Bucky took advantage of the moment of weakness to sweep his legs out from under him, pinning him down as he fell.

“Go ahead, finish it,” said Steve, exhausted physically and emotionally. “I get it if you have to. I’m with ya, pal, ‘til the end of the line.” Bucky paused for a long moment before grabbing Steve’s shield. Steve closed his eyes. It seemed fitting that his story would end with the weapon that started it all.

The sound of a loud clang jolted him alert again, just in time to see Rumlow crumple to the ground. The shield bounced back into Bucky’s hand, and he dropped it where he stood.

Bucky took one look at the man on the floor and bolted straight out the door, pushing past a mildly bloodied Natasha.

Steve motioned towards the hostages and downed enemy agents, scooped up his shield, and tore after Bucky, desperate to catch up before he vanished again. The twisting SHIELD hallways did him no favors in his search though, and the trail quickly grew cold as he reached a T-shaped fork in his path. He groaned in annoyance as Clint jogged up to him at an inappropriately casual pace.

“Well, that was exciting,” remarked Clint, notching another arrow. “Luckily we’ve only got cleanup to deal with now. Don’t worry Cap, the Soldier’s next on our list.” With that, he ran down the hallway on the left.

Steve stood for a moment, unable to process the sheer magnitude of what he’d found and lost in the span of ten minutes. He finally managed to get his feet working again, muttering slightly to himself as he made his way down the hallway on the right.

“Why do I feel like things are about to get a heck of a lot worse?”

 

* * *

 

Steve had never felt worse about being right. Things had gotten really, really, bad after the attack on SHIELD. Somehow, Iron Man got it into his head that he ought to attack more often. Week after week, he took out more and more of SHIELD’s remote bases, shattering their defenses and leaving everyone at headquarters scrambling.

To make matters worse, halfway through the series of assaults on SHIELD, Bucky got mixed up in all the fun. He would appear out of nowhere, helping Iron Man slip his chains with a well placed shot right as the team was about to put him out of commission for good. He’d jump into hand-to-hand combat, working seamlessly with the villain to put any agent they were up against out of commission.

He always ignored Steve, no matter how many times he tried to just talk to him. It was as if, now that his mission was over, Steve wasn’t important anymore. It really hurt, especially coming from Bucky, _his_ Bucky. His best friend, at least before HYDRA, and before Iron Man. Now, Steve wasn’t sure if he’d ever get his partner back from where the villains had locked him away in his own mind.

It was during a combo fight a few months after the recent series of attacks had started that Steve finally made a big mistake. He had been assigned to a solo recon mission at a small SHIELD base in Utah. No one had expected Iron Man to show up, and even fewer had expected Bucky’s presence.

The fight was slow going. Iron Man and Bucky seemed to know exactly where he was going to throw a punch, exactly where they needed to be to block his shield. Their movements were fluid, practiced, elegant. Like they’d fought together for decades and known each other for longer. It was beautiful. It was horrible. It was both and neither in a confused tangle of half-remembered promises and the sound of happy laughter shared by the best of friends.

He let his guard down for a second, doing his best to process the feelings threatening to overwhelm him, and Bucky took that opportunity to lunge at his neck. He felt a pinch, and the world started to go dark.

The last thing he saw was the impassive face of a golden, metal mask.

 

 

When Steve came to, he was strapped to a chair. He groaned, taking in his surroundings. He was in what appeared to be a high-tech mechanic’s workshop, with pieces of Iron Man suits littering pretty much every available surface, including the floor. Two mechanical arm-shaped robots hovered near the back, by what appeared to be a fire extinguisher.

“Wh-what—” Steve tried to speak, but his mouth had decided not to cooperate with him, it seemed.

“Good to see you’re awake, Cap.” Steve turned his head as best he could at the sound of the filtered voice. Iron Man was sitting at a workbench near Steve’s chair, surrounded on all sides by strange looking tools. Bucky sitting on a stool next to him, his arm outstretched. Iron Man appeared to be fiddling with its internal mechanism. “Welcome to my workshop! Nice, isn’t it?”

“Wh-what are you doing to him?” asked Steve, struggling against the weakness in his limbs and fog clouding his mind.

“I’m helping, Cap. Is that so hard to believe? Is it really that impossible for you to consider that someone can do good from outside the system?”

Steve scoffed, “Sure, killing people and destroying property is doing good. You tell yourself that, Iron Man. And if I find out you’ve hurt Bucky? Once I get out of these chains I’ll show you just how _good_ I can be.” Bucky sat silently in front of Iron Man as he worked, not even flinching at the mention of his name. That terrified Steve more than anything; even the Winter Soldier had tapped a finger against his thigh, or rocked back and forth slightly as he stood. The stillness was...jarring, to say the least.

Iron Man laughed, the vocal filters turning the sound into a cruel mockery of humanity. “Temper, temper, Captain! What makes you think your precious Bucky is anything but happy to be here? The Winter Soldier is gone, Captain. I’ve remade him into something greater. You saw how well we worked together.”

That was the worst part. Iron Man and the Winter Soldier fit together well in battle, almost as well as Bucky and Steve had back during the war. They worked around each other seamlessly, fought back to back like they’d been doing it their entire lives. It was poetry to watch, and Steve had seethed at the sight of them when they confronted each other on the battlefield, though he never could quite pinpoint why. It was almost like they were made for each other. _Wait..._

Steve’s blood ran cold as he came to a horrifying conclusion. _He couldn’t mean?_ “You brainwashed him again?”

Another laugh. “I _convinced_ him. It was easy. I’ll convince you to join me too by the time we’re done here.”

“Never!”

“Oh Captain, my Captain, I’ve always liked you, you know that? You’re refreshingly honest compared to most of the ‘heroes’ hopping around nowadays, clamoring for attention as much as they’re saving people. You’re genuinely decent, you know that? There aren’t a lot of people like you; they musta forgotten how to make them back in the 40s. The stuff we could do together would be unimaginable if I weren’t a genius! So you see, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, but one way or another I’m taking you to keep.”

“I’d like to see you try,” said Steve, in as bold a tone as he could muster.

“Okay then.” Iron Man pushed a button behind him, and a holographic screen appeared in front of Steve. “Enjoy the film! The chemical you were injected with has the added bonus of leaving your muscles very, very relaxed, so don’t think holding your eyes shut will be enough to get you out of watching. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” He turned back to Bucky’s arm as the first images began to play on the screen.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Captain Handsome.” Steve knew that voice. He’d dreamed about that voice, spent days with the man it belonged to. “It’s like you were summoned from my worst nightmares, special ordered Prime on Amazon!” continued Tony, sounding rather more bitter than Steve had heard him. But it couldn’t be, right? One of his first, kindest friends couldn’t possibly be the same monster who had once murdered seventeen people. Right?

The scene continued much as Steve remembered it, until a new voice interrupted the old conversation.

“Sir, I’ve gathered as much data on the Tesseract as possible, but you must leave for home immediately. Director Fury wishes to speak with you,” reported JARVIS, sounding mildly frantic. Steve watched the take off from Tony’s perspective, reeling from what he’d found out. Fury was in on it? Was he working with Iron Man to take down SHIELD? But why?

The scene changed to a conference room, Iron Man’s viewfinder focused on Director Fury’s face. “...you need to get rid of it,” he was saying “it’s insane what they want to do! That nuke _cannot_ hit New York. I don’t care what you have to do, just get rid of it before anyone gets hurt.”

“And you can’t tell the Avengers, because?”

“Same reason why I didn’t call you. SHIELD communication systems are being monitored; you can’t _possibly_ say you haven’t noticed.” The screen moved like Tony was nodding. “Something rotten is going on here, but you best believe I haven’t stayed alive for this long by showing my hand before I was sure I had the winning one. SHIELD can’t know that I’m suspicious, so the Avengers can’t know. You’re the only chance we’ve got.” Tony nodded again.

“Right, then we’re on the same page here. SHIELD is fishy, but we can’t let the Sunshine Band know yet. First priority is the nuke, once it appears, but we’re talking about all this later, capiche?”

“You best believe it, Stark. We’re getting to the bottom of this, pronto. But for now...good luck.”

The scene changed again, this time showing what appeared to be a small bedroom. Fury was back, looking bruised, much the same way he had after the battle in SHIELD headquarters.

“So, Pierce is HYDRA,” started Tony. “We can’t say that came as any surprise. But finding out the infection is this deep was definitely a bit of a shock.”

Steve was reeling. The head of SHIELD? HYDRA? Pieces of the puzzle started coming together. The isolating set up when he was first pulled out of the ice, the malicious glares he got from people working for the organization that was supposed to be on his side. The events on the ship...

On screen, Tony pulled out a silver USB. “Natasha passed this off to me on the way over to SHIELD; she’s fully on board now, just so you know. Check it out.” He plugs the drive into a port on his suit, and projects what appears to be a list of names a mile long. “Even their spies are being followed by other spies. Their web is big and and it’s sticky.”

“We’ve got a lot of trash to take out. Widow joining us is a start, but we’re going to need a bigger team to even _hope_ to fully deal with this shit. Got any other ideas for recruits?”

“Well, since Nat’s on board Clint is sure to follow. Bruce will help for sure once he knows, but Steve _really_ doesn’t like Iron Man. I’m not sure he’ll be willing to join up.”

Fury looked pensive for a moment. “Does anyone know where his homicidal partner went after the fight?”

“Not sure, he just vanished.”

“You can be damn sure Cap will be looking for him. If we find him first…”

Tony appeared to catch on. “If Bucky joins us, Steve is much more likely to follow. I’m game, but Fury, if we’re going to be doing this, you should know that I’m not just going to leave him the way he was at headquarters. We’re helping him, as much as we can, giving him the same choice we gave the others. He’s not a tool.”

“I know. As much as I hate to stoke that ego of yours, if there’s anyone who can come close to fixing what happened to him, it’s you. So, we have a plan?”

“Yeah, let’s take SHIELD down.”

More and more scenes flickered across the screen. Killian laughing as he set his own facility on fire, committing the arson that would lead to the death seventeen people. Data gathered from SHIELD bases proving HYDRA missions had taken place there. Countless files from countless days passed by in an unrelenting wave of information.

What seemed like years later, the holographic screen turned off. Steve kept staring at where it was, trying to process everything he’d just heard.

“It’s a lot, huh?” Tony had taken his helmet off now, and Steve had a new target to stare at.

“What? Staying in that mask for too long is awful. The air filtration’s fine and all, but the _smell_. He laughed, a little. “So, hopefully we haven’t broken you Steve. Bucky’s got that covered with this God-awful arm of his, don’t you, Buck.”

Steve heard a sound he hadn’t heard in years. “Yeah, don’t I know it, Tones,” Bucky laughed. “Thanks for fixing this hunk of shit up again. So, what do you say, Steve? You in?” Steve wasn’t sure he could take any more surprises today.

“Bucky? You’re OK! But I saw you—you were—huh?”

Bucky sighed, “Yeah, Steve, I’m fine, all things considered. You’re catching me at the tail end of a long process that will probably never be fully over, though. He did find me, half-sane and wandering, if you wanted to know. Asked me if I wanted help, and when I said yes, put me in some machine—called “barf”, cause Tony’s an idiot—”

“It’s Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing, you dork!” protested Tony, punching Bucky on the arm he’d just worked on as he did. Bucky laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, magic is what it is. I was in there for _ages_ , but it helped get rid of the mess HYDRA had made in my brain, pulled the piece of my memories together a bit better, so when I went and talked to the therapist Tony found me I actually had things to say. Like I said, long process.”

“But, you were frozen just now?”

“Oh.” Bucky flushed a slight red. “You know how I was never great with shots?” Steve nodded. “Yeah, turns out that carries over into fiddling with the insides of metal arms. I asked Tony for help after the first time I thrashed through a check up, and he helped make me a paralytic that actually keeps me still, so I don’t break my arm even more when he’s trying to fix it. It’s part of what we gave you when we brought you here, since it works with the serum and all. Cool, right?”

“And you did amazingly as usual, Bucky-bear, cause you’re tough as nails. Steve, I can really see what you liked about this guy, he’s fantastic!” interrupted Tony. The two shared a warm, secret smile, and a part of Steve died at the sight. It was almost worse than he felt after losing Peggy, cause at least then he didn’t have to see her replace him, trust someone more than him. It hurt that Tony had felt like he couldn’t come to him about this, even after the talk they’d had during the Extremis incident. Still, he was here now, so he was going to make the most of it.

“He sure is. God, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you again Buck. I really missed you.”

Bucky must have seen something in Steve’s face, cause he reached over Tony and pushed a button, releasing the ties that kept Steve held back against the chair.

Steve jolted forward almost uncomfortably as Bucky pulled him up and into a firm hug. “I missed you too, punk, even when I couldn’t remember you. ‘Til the end of the line’ is part of me.” The two soldiers stood there for a long moment, before Bucky stepped back. “So what do you say? You wanna help me and Tony take down SHIELD?”

Steve smirked. “I’m Captain America. Ruining HYDRA’s day is in the job description. That is, if you guys still want me?”

“Of course we want you, Steve!” called Tony from where he was fiddling with tiny mechanical parts on the workbench. “You said it yourself, you’re Captain America! Besides, this way I can stop making up bullshit business trips and hang out with my friends more.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, no more using Iron Man as an excuse to avoid my lectures, buster! We’re gonna have words later.” They definitely needed to talk, about everything. Go over each attack in brutal detail, hear the story from all sides, understand, apologize, forgive. “But for now,” He stepped over to the workbench, and gave Tony a hug before he could protest, releasing it just as quickly. “I missed you too, Tony. You ready to go punch some nazis?”

Tony’s grin could’ve powered Avengers Tower. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

**Author's Note:**

> And that's that! This Big Bang has been an amazing, if challenging, adventure and I couldn't be more impressed and inspired who have worked so hard to create such amazing content for you all. I'm looking forward to reading through all the incredible works now that I'm done with my own contribution! I hope that you all enjoyed reading this, even if it was more gen than we all expected. There may or may not be a more romance-ful sequel in the works.
> 
> Thanks again to the amazing [Wren](massivespacewren.tumblr.com) and [gilestel](gilestel.tumblr.com) for being the most amazing and understanding partners for this bang! You two were an absolute joy to work with, and I'm so incredibly thankful for your support throughout this process <3
> 
> Feel free to come chat with me [here](captainmistyknight.tumblr.com)!


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